


So You Had A Bad Day

by bjrit92



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 18:07:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16289330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjrit92/pseuds/bjrit92
Summary: Reader had a shitty day. Good thing she's got an archangel to fix it.





	So You Had A Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Writing can be so therapeutic for me. Sometimes I can’t help myself. I had a shit day today. Like, super shitty. So…Reader did too. Good thing she’s got an angel over her shoulder to fix it all, right? The relationship with Reader/Gabe is kinda ambiguous: are they dating? Are they not? I don’t think it’s too important of a point so it’s up to your interpretation.

The milk did it.

 

You’d come home to your almost-bare kitchen, dishes still in the sink because you’d not had the time between your three jobs to do much more than eat and sleep at your apartment. Your day had been hell. The children at your daycare job had been more unruly than normal. That one particular coworker who knew how to get under your skin had gotten to you again today. Usually you could roll off whatever she said but this morning you’d slept past your alarm and not had time for a proper shower so you’d thrown your hair up into a hat and run. Your gaslight had come on on the way to work and you wouldn’t get paid for another two days. You didn’t have time for breakfast and when you’d gotten to work someone had drunk the pre-made breakfast shake you keep handy in the fridge for just such occasions so the first time you’d eaten today had been lunch, which consisted of leftover food the kitchen had from making the children’s meals. Your coworker had managed to pluck the wrong nerve and you snapped at her in response, prompting her to complain to management and you to receive a lecture about attitude and teamwork.

 

You made it through naptime relatively intact, besides your belt loop catching in the door handle and ripping a hole in your new pants. The afternoon had been just as chaotic as the morning. The paper you’d meticulously taped to the tables was ignored in favor of coloring on the walls. You couldn’t even take them outside to release some of the energy because it had started to rain around noon. Needless to say, you were exhausted. You didn’t have time to rest, though, because immediately after your job there you had to get to your second job waiting tables at Chili’s. You started to pull out of the parking lot when a parent of another child at the school whipped into it, colliding with your car. It was just a fender-bender, and your car was a miniature tank, so you didn’t have more than some paint scuffs. You’d called out of work at the restaurant, though, citing the car wreck as your excuse. You knew you’d sorely miss the lost tips your make if you went in, but for the sake of your mental health you decided a night free was warranted.

 

You got back to your apartment with the sole intention of using your unexpected evening free to get some housework done to find a note taped to your door stating you’d forgotten to pay rent and had three days to come up with the money or they’d take legal action. You’d forgotten to turn in the check you’d written two days ago. Damn. Sighing and resigning yourself to a late fee, you crumpled up the note and went to make yourself a bowl of cereal and a large glass of wine when you stepped in wet, reasonably-fresh cat puke. Said cat was currently sitting in the corner of the kitchen meowing at you beside his food bowl, as if he hadn’t just thrown up his entire stomach contents on the floor beneath your feet. Cleaning up the vomit, you finally—finally—got your bowl and box of cereal out of the nearly-empty cabinet. You wouldn’t have time or money to grocery shop for a few more days. You poured your cereal and grabbed the milk jug out of the fridge.

 

The milk came out in lumps.

 

Which is why you found yourself now, sitting on your floor of your kitchen, ugly sobbing and loosely clutching the spoiled milk jug that had somehow come to represent the day you’d had today. Your cat had run off at your sudden outburst. Your phone was buzzing on the counter but you couldn’t be bothered to answer it. Whoever it was tried a couple of times and then gave up.

 

“Hey, Sugar. I tried calling but you weren’t answer—hey, are you okay?”

 

You’d stopped crying now and were simply leaning against your cabinets, face red and puffy, still holding the milk jug. You’d cried out so much emotion you felt empty and your eyes reflected the void you felt trapped inside. You’d barely flinched when Gabriel had appeared in your apartment. He hadn’t done that in a while. You’d had a stern talking-to with him about boundaries and knocking when he’d popped in one-too-many-times on you freshly out of the shower, the pervert. He insisted they were (consecutive) coincidences, but you threatened to ward your apartment, and that shut him up pretty quickly. He’d taken to calling you before he stopped in, his version of knocking. Not that—like now—you not answering stopped him from popping in. He’d started making a concerted effort to appear in your living room versus your bedroom, at least.

 

When he’d turned the corner to the kitchen and seen you on the floor, looking for all intents and purposes like a kicked puppy, he’d forgotten what he’d originally came to speak to you about and opted for sitting on the floor beside you. He bumped your shoulder with his and you laid your head on it. He rested his head on yours and you knew he was waiting for you to speak. You halfheartedly raised the jug of rotten milk and shook it, letting the chunks swish around in the liquid.

 

“Milk’s gone bad.”

 

Gabriel’s eyebrows puckered and he rubbed your knee. “That, uh…sucks? Would you like some fresh milk?”

 

You nodded your head, still leaning against him. You felt his cheek lift in an amused smile against your forehead. A trademark snap later and you were holding a brand-new, cold gallon of milk, the old one long gone.

 

“Is spoiled milk the worst of your problems today or do you have a story for me?” He asked, squeezing your knee affectionately.

 

You opened your mouth and sucked in a breath, prepared to tell him about your day, when you were struck with how abhorrent the idea of reliving this day from hell would be. Closing your mouth again, you shook your head.

 

“Just a shit day,” you said simply. He nodded in understanding and you sighed in appreciation of him not pushing the issue.

 

He snapped again, but nothing happened. You lifted your head and looked at him for the first time, struck by just how close your faces were in this position. He winked at you and nodded toward your bathroom door. You furrowed your brow, silently questioning him, loathe to get up from your comfortable spot on the floor. He rolled his eyes and stood, extending a hand out to help you up. Still holding your hand, he led you to your bathroom and opened the door. You gasped in surprise.

 

The lights were off but there were a dozen candles lit all over the counter and around your bathtub, exuding an intoxicating and relaxing aroma. Your bathtub was full of bubbles and there was a glass of wine sitting on the counter beside it. A fluffy white towel and matching robe with slippers sat draped over the back of the toilet. Gabriel pressed a kiss to your temple as you took in the sight before you. You felt you cheeks flush.

 

“Relax for a while. I’ll make you some dinner.”

 

By his gentle yet firm tone, he wasn’t to be argued with. Not that you were going to. The door closed behind him and you were alone. You slipped out of your clothes and stepped into the tub. You bit back a moan at the perfect, almost too hot temperature of the water. You sunk into the bubbles and leaned against the tub. The bubbles smelled like roses and it wasn’t long before you were dozing off.

 

The smell of garlic and butter woke you, along with a gentle hand stroking your cheek. You blinked open your eyes to see the angel crouching beside you. Glancing down, you were relieved to see that the bubbles were the angel-magic type and were just as thick now as they were an hour ago. Not that him seeing you naked was a particularly undesirable thing.

 

“Dinner’s ready when you are, Sugar-Pop,” Gabriel smiled at you. He left you alone to climb out of the tub, dry off, and wrap the robe around your body. You stuck your feet into the slippers and left the bathroom, squeezing your hair dry in the towel as you walked into the kitchen. You paused and looked around you, eyes widening as you took in your surroundings.

 

Your apartment was clean. Like…clean clean. Things had been tidied and scrubbed that you didn’t think had been since you’d moved in. You could practically eat off of your kitchen floor. The counters gleamed. There was a fresh bouquet of flowers on your kitchen table. A table that was set with fancy plates you don’t remember owning, two glasses of wine, sparkling silverware, and freshly pressed napkins. On the stove sat a large pot of spaghetti, a plate of garlic bread, and a tray of brownies. Your cat had food in his bowl and sat at Gabriel’s feet purring like a furry little sidekick. Your eyes found Gabe’s and you could see he was attempting to hide his nerves behind pride. He was watching you inspect his work intently, obviously hoping he’d done well and achieved his goal of cheering you up.

 

“Oh!” He started, and reached over to your fridge, pulling the door open as he spoke. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty…” the fridge was full. Your favorite drinks, meats, veggies, fruits, you name it. Your eyes were nearly popping out of your head. “I loaded up your cabinets, too. It’s almost pathetic how barren this place was. What have you even been eating? I didn’t snap in the pasta, though. I actually made that, the way you showed me once forever ago. Which may have been a mistake. If it’s awful I can always—“

 

You cut off his rambling by striding forward purposefully, grasping his face in your hands, and kissing him soundly. You felt him stiffen in shock before relaxing and responding in earnest. After a moment you pulled away, breaking the kiss. He leaned his forehead against yours, just as breathless as you were.

 

“I should have bad days more often,” you chuckled. He leaned away from you and stared you in the eyes, a soft, gentle look to them. Reaching forward, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his thumb stroke your cheek as he did so.

 

“I don’t need an excuse to dote on you,” he replied in a low voice. He pecked your lips again before releasing you and rubbing his hands together. “Now come on,” he said excitedly. “Let’s eat! And I’m serious, if it sucks, I’ll just snap in some authentic Italian cuisine from Rome or something.”

 

Laughing, you replied, “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful. Gabriel?” He paused and looked at you. “Thank you.”


End file.
